After the Fact - Part 2

I actually MISS my baby.  I want to hold her so badly.  (Yes, I just know she was a girl.)  My babies would have been 18 months apart.  But I really tried not to get too excited before my first trimester was up.  I learned that the hard way with Marshall's twin.  But it was still pretty exciting to have babies so close in age, after such a big gap between Jack and Marshall.

While all the ups and downs of my first tri were going on, I found out my sister-in-law, who married my brother in July, was pregnant.  

I also found out that my cousin's wife is pregnant again.  They have a son a couple months older than Marshall and their kids will be 19 months apart.  I was so excited that we would have kids so close in age again (and that mine would be closer together).

I have another cousin who is 7 months pregnant.

All of these people I'll see at Christmas.  If I'm even able to go.  I was seriously considering anti-depressants a few days ago.  My mom left on Monday.  That was the worst of them.  I was unable to function.  I cried all day.  I've been through all of the emotions.  But unlike with IF, when I was pissed at God (and told Him), I've been neutral in my reaction to God so far.  I don't know if I'm still trying to figure out my feelings towards His will, or if I just haven't gotten that far yet.  I know I'm not particularly happy with the fact that He gave me a child and then took it away in such a traumatic and horrible manner.  But I haven't screamed at Him yet either.       Yet.

I was told by a friend that I would be mad at my husband and that it would be difficult to accept his offers to help because he wouldn't know what to do.  Thankfully I've found it to be the opposite.  He was so solid.  He was so there.  I know he felt/feels helpless, but he's doing his best and I recognize and appreciate it.  The other night, he just let me cry into his shoulder.  It's what I needed.  And I know this is affecting him like he never thought it would.

Then there's other family.  Siblings who just don't get it and say insensitive things.  My mom, who feels terrible that she had to leave.  My dad, who I can tell is hurting from it, which makes it hurt for me even more.  Extended family who I haven't spoken to, but who have sent their prayers and condolences.

But one thing I've learned, no matter how badly you may feel for someone who miscarries - you'll never understand unless you've been there.  

And it's awful.

I've talked to our priest about having a memorial mass for our lost babies.  I hope that will provide some closure.  We named Marshall's twin Gerard since St. Gerard was so instrumental in gaining my fertility back, and this baby Frances, after Padre Pio.  We also have one more saint in Heaven, my would-have-been-adopted Baby Jude.  We'll include him in our memorial mass as well. 

I have NO idea what God has planned for this.  I'll be 35 in February and I pray that I still have time for a couple more blessings.  I hope and pray.  In the meantime, I really hope that I was able to release a couple of souls from Purgatory.  This suffering can't be for nothing. It just can't be.